Your Money or Your Life

How old is too old to manage your money? Maybe Brooke Astor’s family could tackle that one.  Or a few of the folks who were living comfortably in posh retirement communities last year and now need charity thanks to investments — that seemed just fine at the time — with Bernie Madoff.

True/Slant contributor Ryan Sager has an interesting new post about “The Age of Financial Reason” that caught my eye thanks to its accompanying geezer-photo. (True disclosure: I am not Ryan’s grandmother — though I certainly could be.) He cites an abstract I find fascinating, although I tend to distrust any proclamation that plays fast and loose with phrases like “suboptimal use of credit card balance transfer offers” or misestimentation of ” home value.  Did these people ever take regular English? Nevertheless, they are seriously into their study, however convoluted their language.  They are concerned about us older adults and our potentially poor financial choices, since it seems “about half the population between ages 80 and 89 either has dementia or a medical diagnosis of ‘cognitive impairment without dementia'”. Good grief.

This is, truth be told, no laughing matter.

You would not want me making your financial choices. Numbers have never been my strong suit. This is despite the fact that I once wrote a pretty good little book titled “Money Management,” part of a 13-volume series designed to reach the functionally illiterate adult population (I was the creative part; co-author LuEllen Ransbottom was the brains.) What I did really smart was to marry Bud Johns; you should be so lucky as to have Bud make your financial choices.

But the point is, few of us can really predict when our sharp brains might slip right into that ‘cognitive impairment without dementia’ gray area. And the further point is, as noted in Ryan’s post, there is a limit to which government should not go in removing one’s control of one’s financial choices — at least, the financial choices we have left over after taxes.

Many of us geezers are less than pleased about the fact that careful choices past — such as optimization of credit cards, i.e. religiously paying balances on time; credit companies hate people like us — carrying only reasonable mortgages or other debt, investing in properly run, socially responsible companies — many who practiced fiscal responsibility (except Bud and I both, separately, did invest in Smith Corona just for old times sake) have found themselves penalized by measures taken to avert disasters brought on by the fiscally irresponsible.

What’s a body to do? I agree that families need to maintain awareness, at whatever age, of the financial choices being made by themselves and their loved ones. If they’ve had long-term investments with good investment companies or advisors, chances are those companies or advisors will not lead them astray. When checking out those links from Ryan’s blog, and a few dozen others on reputable senior and financial sites, I also found a zillion agencies out there eager to help. It is likely that the ones with .org after their names rather than .com might be preferable.

In a recent post I talked about the emergence of brain exercise, and its small promise for postponing ‘cognitive impairment without dementia’ (I’m beginning to detest that phrase.) For example: say six numbers out loud. Now say them backwards. You have exercised your brain. In an effort to forestall poor financial decision making, for the time being I plan to do my brain exercises. And leave the decisions to Bud.

Housing, homelessness & other inequities

Today’s Sonoma County (CA) Press Democrat features a front page story about Joe Montana’s digs near Calistoga, available for $49 er–million. It is right above a photo of homeless vet Jack Saltzman reading in his hatchback, the juxtaposition of photos hard not to notice.

Others vets don’t have hatchbacks. Press Democrat feature writer Jeremy Hay reports that according to the Department of Veterans Affairs, approximately 400, or 12%, of Sonoma’s 35,000 vets are homeless, which fellow homeless vet Don Bridges says is “just the tip of it.” Some 131,000 of the nation’s 24 million veterans are homeless on any given day.

Hay details some of the measures being undertaken to alleviate the problem, including $3.2 billion recently pledged by the V.A. to be spent over the next five years toward getting veterans off the street and keeping them from falling into homelessness. But returning vets have been part of another world most of us only see in the extreme abstract and can’t possibly comprehend; fitting right back into mainstream America can be harder than anywhere they have served, where at least, another vet explains, “you’ve been part of your tribe.” More vets will return, and more will wind up on the streets.

None of this is the Montanas fault.

Another Press Democrat front page story, a New York Times article by Andrew Martin and Lowell Bergman, mentions a 91-year-old Florida woman who got a letter from Citibank last month advising her that her new credit card interest rate was 29.99 percent, up 10 points from the previous rate. Haven’t we been reading about Citibank lately?

These bits of information are being digested by those of us who elected Mr. Obama and now feel sad and frustrated because our expectations were, perhaps, too high. Some of us are wondering why he ever wanted the job in the first place.

We don’t have an answer to homelessness. We may not make an offer on the Montana estate — even though, with a Tuscan-style mansion, equestrian center, full-sized basketball court, gym, pool, etc, etc it is probably worth that matching 49er price — because with 20% down and a 30-year 6% fixed rate mortgage the monthly payments of $235,023 would be a stretch. And we are not planning any credit revolt, despite the fact that it is the responsible credit users who are being penalized by the likes of Citibank. What we are doing is just trying to comprehend the surreal nature of today’s news as covered on one front page.

And keep the faith.

Cancer, Viruses & Informed Consent

A commentary about cancer screenings and surrounding questions posted yesterday brought a thoughtful reader response: “Science, including public health,” wrote davidlosangeles, “is an evolving process.”  Unquestionably so.

What we the consuming public need to understand is not the science as much as the personal responsibility. Today’s New York Times features another story on the front page of the Business section (some of us still follow old-fashioned newsprint) by Duff Wilson about “Research Uproar at a Cancer Clinic”, namely the highly regarded Carle Foundation Cancer Center in Urbana, IL. It’s another instance of respected professionals questioning each others’ respectability — or protocols, or carefulness, to use gentler terms than are actually being used. One of the issues raised is that of informed consent, and here is where we the consuming public come in. Whether we are cancer patients, CFIDS sufferers or mostly healthy people susceptible to the usual ails, it is incumbent upon the individual to know what he or she is agreeing to, and to know as much as possible about the projected outcome. We’re all in a giant clinical trial here on the planet. Nobody really knows about the outcome, but participation in mini-trials along the way can be valuable and is certainly laudable. Just know what you’re doing.

I am a continuing participant in the Women’s Health Initiative study now well into its second decade, though the primary issues are over and done with. I didn’t try any new hormone replacement therapies or drastic lifestyle changes, mainly because I’m pretty wimpish, but I read every word of the small print in the reams of documents that came along and tried hard to appreciate what the pitfalls and premises were. It was a valuable study, and hopefully will continue to turn up usable data.

Other studies are underway, and more will undoubtedly begin, regarding the current hoopla over XRMV, and H1N1. And heaven only knows how many other viruses, techonological advances, genetic possibilities and scientific wonders are out there to create great harm or great benefit.

Since the benefits are to the buyers, it’s appropriate that the buyer beware.

Obama shifts justice department resources away from medical marijuana

A little ray of sanity from President Obama: the feds won’t be going after legitimate users of medical marijuana. This will be welcome news in San Francisco, where federal raids on legal suppliers during the Bush administration met with widespread protests; possibly unwelcome news in Los Angeles, which is cracking down on its over-supply of dispensaries; and interesting news in the U.K., where guardian.uk.com reported on it Monday.

The US justice department today told federal law enforcement officials to shift resources away from investigation and prosecution of medical marijuana users and suppliers.

In a memo sent this morning to federal prosecutors, officials at president Barack Obama’s justice department said that prosecutions of individuals who are clearly using or supplying marijuana for medical purposes are “unlikely to be an efficient use of limited federal resources” if the targets otherwise comply with state and federal laws.

Fourteen states allow some use of marijuana for medical purposes, though it remains banned under federal law. The Bush and Clinton administrations – the first to grapple with the conflict – essentially ignored the state laws, treating medical marijuana as illegal.

“The federal government is no longer at war with the 13 states that have chosen to allow patients to use marijuana for medical purposes,” said Bruce Mirken, spokesman for the Marijuana Policy Project, which favours decriminalisation of the drug.

“It’s going to provide relief to a lot of people who have been anxious about whether or not they’re going to be arrested for helping patients get their doctor-recommended medicine,” said Tom Angell, a spokesman for Law Enforcement Against Prohibition, which claims 1,500 former police, prosecutors, border patrol agents and other one-time fighters in the war on drugs among its membership.

This would’ve been good news for my sister, whose brief search for relief a few decades ago was mentioned in the post below. It would’ve made life a little easier for a lot of people with AIDS in recent decades.  Set aside the arguments pro or con recreational use; when a drug is known to help suffering people, and is legal in a particular city or state, wasting federal tax dollars to interfere seems to make very little sense.

The memo doesn’t legalize marijuana or end prosecution of illegal, for-profit sales etc. It does, though, leave these to local federal officials. And clarifies the federal government’s position.

It puts into writing remarks by attorney general Eric Holder, who in March said the federal government would end raids on legitimate medical marijuana dispensaries. Obama has indicated he is sympathetic to medical marijuana use, noting during the presidential campaign that his mother had died of cancer and that he saw no difference between morphine prescribed by doctors and marijuana used to relieve pain.

I don’t do pain very well. Given its prevalence in long, drawn-out illnesses today, I’m in favor of whatever palliative care and pain-relieving medicines there are. It is nice to have a president who understands.

via Obama justice department to shift from investigating medical marijuana cases | World news | guardian.co.uk.

The aches & pains of medical marijuana

An article in Sunday’s New York Times details the struggle in Los Angeles to regulate the cannabis dispensaries which have proliferated around the  city over the past six or eight years, raising the old medical marijuana questions about how to control, whether to tax and how useful it is in the first place. Reporter Solomon Moore cites Oakland, California’s Harborside Health Center as the place to which many are looking for a model.

‘Our No. 1 task is to show that we are worthy of the public’s trust in asking to distribute medical cannabis in a safe and secure manner,’ said Steve DeAngelo, the pig-tailed proprietor of Harborside, which has been in business for three years.

Harborside is one of four licensed dispensaries in Oakland run as nonprofit organizations. It is the largest, with 74 employees and revenues of about $20 million. Last summer, the Oakland City Council passed an ordinance to collect taxes from the sale of marijuana, a measure that Mr. DeAngelo supported.

Mr. DeAngelo designed Harborside to exude legitimacy, security and comfort. Visitors to the low-slung building are greeted by security guards who check the required physicians’ recommendations. Inside, the dispensary looks like a bank, except that the floor is covered with hemp carpeting and the eight tellers stand behind identical displays of marijuana and hashish.

There is a laboratory where technicians determine the potency of the marijuana and label it accordingly. (Harborside says it rejects 80 percent of the marijuana that arrives at its door for insufficient quality.) There is even a bank vault where the day’s cash is stored along with reserves of premium cannabis. An armored truck picks up deposits every evening.

City officials routinely audit the dispensary’s books. Surplus cash is rolled back into the center to pay for free counseling sessions and yoga for patients. “Oakland issued licenses and regulations, and Los Angeles did nothing and they are still unregulated,” Mr. DeAngelo said. “Cannabis is being distributed by inappropriate people.”

I don’t know where Los Angeles will go with all this, or how well Harborside will continue to operate for how long. What I do know is that marijuana serves a real medical purpose. Probably serves a real recreational purpose too, and there’s the rub; but since I missed the pot party — thank heavens, as I am addicted to anything that comes down the pike, and please don’t try to tell me one cannot get addicted to marijuana — I can’t address that issue. Everything I know is anecdotal, but convincing.

Decades ago my beloved sister was suffering acute gastro intestinal distress, much later identified as a symptom of celiac disease but this was before anybody really knew anything about celiac sprue. One day she said, “You know, everybody at X High School either smokes pot or knows where to get it. Could you get me some so I could at least try it?” Well, even though the statute of limitations would probably protect the surviving players I think I won’t go into details of this adventure. But what I learned was: buying and selling illegal pot is a little scary for the novice, but the deal was easy and nobody went to jail. It did indeed give relief to my suffering sister. Though both of us wished she could have that relief on an ongoing basis, we reached a mutual conclusion that the risk was not worth the reward, and that was the end of that.

Fast forward to the 1990s, when everyone I knew with AIDS knew how marijuana could relieve some symptoms of the disease, and most had a supply. I was in San Francisco by then, and celiac disease pales in comparison to AIDS. I don’t even recall how legal it was for this relief; too many other issues were more important. But again, I saw its usefulness.

The Times article quotes Christine Gasparac, a spokeswoman for California Attorney General Jerry Brown, as saying his office is getting calls from law officials and advocates around the state asking for clarity on medical marijuana laws. I know that’s tough, and that the answer will in many cases be left to the courts. I also know that legalizing marijuana, whether here in woo-hoo California or elsewhere, raises a multiplicity of sticky issues.

But still. It’s a useful drug. If Big Pharma were producing and marketing it, it would probably come in a little pill that costs a fortune and would be covered by expensive insurance policies. Every governmental body in the U.S. needs money. Taxes raise money. Are there not some dots that could be connected here?

Presidents, Patriotism & the Blue Angels

The Blue Angels were in town for San Francisco’s Fleet Week in recent days, along with assorted presidents for the President’s Cup golf tournament and planners for the 20th anniversary of the Loma Prieta earthquake, all of which made for a patriotic sort of time. Not to give away the punch line, but two out of the three fell victim to the famous San Francisco fog, which little factoid offers too many metaphors even to think about.

The Blue Angels bring with them, it has to be noted, a lot of ambivalence. Something about all that military might, ear-shattering noise and expensive fuel, plus the radar that lets them know when anyone is considering a quick nap… but then, they are incredibly good at what they do, and strangely beautiful streaking around up there.

Letters to the editor, however, poured in. Against the warrior culture, the display of power, the celebration of aggression and militarism, pollutants in the air. In favor of flyover celebrations and tradition. Nobody mentioned interruption of naps. I remain ambivalent.

A flag-waver to the core, I find myself resentful that flag waving has been hijacked by those who mean God Bless America and the hell with everybody else. I’m even resentful of the hijacking of God Bless America, which is a beautiful song and shouldn’t mean please don’t bless anyone else, Ma’am.

By the end of the weekend, Tiger Woods had come off a hero again, the skies had cleared just enough for a few aerobatics, the spectators had spent a lot of money on extra San Francisco sweatshirts and foot warmers to get them through the festivities and the planners were still planning for the impending earthquake celebration, all proving that Nature bats last. And a few flags of all sorts were out.

Patriotism used to feel good. I yearn for the day when it can feel good again, and we patriots are too busy promoting peace and goodwill around the globe for other stuff. And earthquakes and tsunamis and hurricanes are more to be feared than somebody else’s nuclear missiles. It could happen. Nature, sports and celebrations notwithstanding, does bat last.

Healthcare coding for Ayurveda – Why not?

Having taken up brain fitness (see below) a few days ago, this space today offers a few notes on Emotional Vibrancy and Wellbeing in this modern day and age. They come straight from a lecture of the same title by Sudha Prathikanti, MD presented by the UCSF National Center of Excellence in Women’s Health and the UCSF Osher Center for Integrative Medicine. Dr. Prathikanti, UCSF Professor of Psychiatry, Consultant in Integrative Medicine and an exceptionally lovely young woman, clearly has achieved balance in her mind/body systems. Plus, she has a power-point lecture clear enough for lay listeners within her mostly-medical-professional audience to comprehend.

Emotional vibrancy and well-being, Dr. Prathikanti explains, “spring from a life lived in balance where one’s spirit is strong and resilient, with the capacity to embrace and grow from the pain and loss which are a natural part of human life.” Whereas western medicine tends to approach disease as a battle to be joined and conquered, she says, almost all other cultures from Native American to Asian have a more holistic approach. If you’re feeling a little out of balance, these glimpses into Ayurveda — the wisdom tradition of India — might help.

Ayurveda, Dr. Prathikanti explains, is a full medical system based on the concept that we humans are made up of the five basic elements (5 Great Bhutas) — earth, fire, water, air and space. We embody three life sources (3 Great Doshas): Vata, Pitta and Kapha. Each dosha has specific expression; we come with all three in unique individual constitutions, and they are initially in balance. It’s when they get out of whack that trouble comes.

OK, perhaps this is sounding obtuse, but stick with it; you may discover something useful.

Vata (air, space, water) is all that moves — the beating heart, the blinking eye, the wandering mind. Pitta (mostly fire, a little water) has to do with heating — those digestive enzymes busy cooking up dinner, the fiery intellect. Kapha (earth/water — think clay) involves all that binds, the joints, body mass, memory. Ayurveda will seek to determine at what point your mind/body function was at its best — say, that summer you worked as a lifeguard on the beach and were doing graduate school classes at night — and keep you in that good balance.

Dr. Prathikanti conjured up three sample people and gave them a case of severe grief to illustrate how the different doshas work when things get out of balance. Vata, slightly built and having a quirky, creative mind, under such stress might wind up jumpy and restless, change jobs too much, have trouble making decisions. Pitta, owns her own business, the fiery mind etc, could wind up smoking and drinking and eating too many hot tamales. Kapha, earthy homemaker, might eat and sleep too much, become listless and withdrawn. The process of recovery would address each of these issues in ways to regain balance.

None of this is likely to make it into the health reform bill. But since we have finally begun to acknowledge that AMA-guided traditional American medicine may not know everything there is to know — Kaiser, when I considered acupuncture recently for a chronic pain issue promptly sent me to their Chinese Medicine class — perhaps a little ancient Indian wisdom will be useful.

By the end of the lecture I had figured out I’m a predominant Vata married to a definite Pitta, and is that good? Dr. Prathikanti assured me that understanding one’s doshas and keeping them in balance is indeed advisable, but she rather gently suggested that having a consultation with an ayurvedic practitioner for starters is wise.

In other words, it’s a good idea to know what you’re talking about. Still, we offer the above as a toast to your health.

Bluegrass for World Peace

A million or so music fans and sun seekers found themselves in Golden Gate Park this weekend listening to the likes of Emmylou Harris, Steve Martin, Hazel Dickens, Earl Scruggs, Boz Skaggs & the Blue Velvet Band, and a long list of other music makers you will recognize if your bluegrass credentials are up to date. There were about 75 bands in all, on six stages scattered around several meadows. I missed The Brothers Comatose, and Booker T & the Drive-by Truckers, and I worried a little about The Flatlanders tooling around these San Francisco hills, but for sheer exuberant free entertainment, Hardly Strictly Bluegrass 9 could hardly have been beat.

The free part is thanks to local billionaire Warren Hellman, a banjo-picker, bluegrass enthusiast extraordinaire and one-man stimulus package — he does a little investment banking on the side — who has thrown this party for the past nine years and has now endowed it so it will be around in perpetuity. The fact that much of the music sung by these musicians is pure anti-billionaire dampens no spirits, Hellman’s least of all.

(The top ticket, of course, was our weekend houseguest Don Betts, faithfully YouTube’d by his wife Annie as he performed that great American classic “I just don’t look good naked any more.” Betts was introduced by Hellman, whose  group The Wronglers kicked off Saturday on Porch Stage. In addition to making money and playing banjo, Hellman is an an avid champion of the sport of Ride & Tie, and Betts is current R&T Association president… but that’s probably another blog. )

A little bluegrass celebration has never been needed more. What with the world having pretty much gone to hell, there is something immensely comforting in hanging out with a few thousand fellow sufferers grooving to songs about bad whiskey and love gone wrong — problems you can identify with and get your mind around. Not to mention damning corporate greed and evil rich guys, pausing every now and then for a standing ovation for one of Them who just dropped a few million in household change on your glorious weekend out. It all somehow fits right in with a tanked job market and universal political comedy.

A few decades back this music — or what sounded exactly like this music — was called Country. It was rousing and redneck and not cool. Bluegrass is cool. Hellman’s buddies came in every race, creed, color and national origin, ranged from in utero to way-80s, recycled everything and smiled whiled jostling for dancing space. I submit bluegrass as palliative care for the world.

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